


kidnapping is scary, but commitment is scarier

by marshmallownose



Category: House of Anubis
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I finished this at 3am, Kinda?, Kissing, Love Confessions, Oh who am I kidding, POV Third Person Omniscient, Pillow Fight, Pillow Talk, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, and there was only one bed, but I don't write smut so sorry if you were hoping for that, but does it count if they're still idiots and were also already lovers?, highkey suggestive, idiots to lovers, low-key suggestive, patricia and eddie get locked in the gatehouse, season 3 setting, so go easy on me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallownose/pseuds/marshmallownose
Summary: “Just so we’re both on the same page, this is outrageously cliche, right?”“Oh, yes, totally.”“Good. Just checking.”
Relationships: Eddie Miller/Patricia Williamson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	kidnapping is scary, but commitment is scarier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [House of Anubis Stan Twitter](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=House+of+Anubis+Stan+Twitter).



> Dedicated to HOA twitter who asked me for a "and there was only one bed" fic for Peddie and ofc I couldn't refuse.

“Just so we’re both on the same page, this is outrageously cliche, right?”

“Oh, yes, totally.”

“Good. Just checking.”

Two hours. They’d been locked in one of Denby’s dinky guest rooms—which really looked more like it could have been Harry Potter’s childhood broom cupboard—for _two hours_. And there was only _one bed._ Leave it to Eddie to come up with the stupidest plan for a Sibuna rescue mission, and leave it to Patricia to be dumb enough to volunteer to help.

“At least KT got out,” Eddie said, leaning up against the decidedly locked door.

Patricia fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “She wouldn’t have gotten _in_ if someone hadn’t let her go off to _‘see if her great-grandpa was really awake’.”_ She scoffed, but it came out as more of a groan. She wasn’t even mad at KT, but the situation they found themselves in because of their friend’s half-baked decision to reconnect with her roots was decidedly problematic. “He’s awake alright, and we’re screwed.”

“Why are you always so negative?” Eddie snapped. “You're just looking for problems.”

“It’s not very hard to find them,” she retorted heatedly, glancing at her watch. “It’s like two in the morning, and no one’s coming for us, and I’m stuck here with _you_ , so take a wild guess why I’m ‘negative’.”

That one stung a little, and Eddie could see in the dim light from the single bulb that hung over their heads that Patricia had realized that directly after she’d said it.

“Whatever,” he grumbled after a long, tense silence. “Might as well get some rest if we want to have enough energy to try and escape tomorrow. You take the bed.”

Patricia, who’d been trying to think of subtle apology, stiffened. “Why do _I_ take the bed?” she asked.

“Um, because I’m a _gentleman?”_

“You’re as much a gentleman as I am a lady,” she said with an unladylike snort. “So why don’t you just take the bed?”

“I hate to break it to you, Yacker,” Eddie said, and Patricia tried to hide the small smile at the familiar nickname, “but you _are_ a lady. So just take the bed.”

“I’ve always slept on the floor for Sibuna stakeouts,” she said, standing up from where she’d been slouched against the wall. “So it makes more sense that you sleep in the bed; your little head isn’t used to the ground like I am.”

“Ever thought that it’s because you’ve got a thick skull?” Eddie retorted without much real bite, and it was like a switch had been flipped on his mood.

She pretended to be insulted, but truth be told, Patricia was in her element, bickering with Eddie like this. They’d been so surrounded by everything and everyone that they didn’t have any time to slip into their usual rhythm of mutually looking out for one another by way of banter; Eddie felt much the same.

“Are we seriously arguing about this? Just take the bed,” said Patricia, realizing she’d run out of comebacks—only ever with Eddie could she run out of comebacks.

He crossed his arms like a child. “No,” he said petulantly. “I’m not going to let you sleep on the hardwood floor in the middle of a hostage situation. I wouldn’t let you sleep on the floor even if we were both safe and sound back at Anubis.”

She tried to ignore how that statement made her heart pound. _“My hero,”_ she drawled instead. “But seriously if it’s going to be such a problem we can both sleep on the floor.”

“Or we can both take the bed,” Eddie said before his brain caught up to his mouth. Patricia’s eyes widened and it was clear she was just as taken aback by his suggestion. He really did mean it, though; they’d shared a bed several times before over the summer before she’d broken things off with him out of the blue. He remembered it had been nice, the two of them talking late into the night. _Shit._ He missed her more than he’d thought. “I mean, if you want to...”

Patricia bit her lip uncertainly, glancing over at the bed. It wasn’t a very large bed, in fact it could barely be considered a twin. _Denby, you cheap bastard,_ she thought. She should say no. It was inappropriate for exes to share a bed, wasn’t it? Too intimate. They weren’t dating anymore, and that was for a very good reason.

_Oh, yeah? Was the ‘very good reason’ that you’re secretly a gutless coward who’s afraid of commitment?_ her mind helpfully supplied.

_Shut up, who even asked you?_ she spat at her traitorous subconscious.

“Yacker?” Eddie asked hesitantly, and Patricia realized she’d been silent for far too long.

  
  
She wasn’t sure whether she was trying to prove a point to Eddie or to herself, but Patricia found herself nodding her head. “Yeah,” she said, wishing that the idea of doing something they’d done probably fifty times wasn’t so uncertain. “Let’s do it. At least that way when Denby comes to drag us off to our deaths we can go together.”

Eddie tried not to be freaked out by the fact that the idea of dying—or whatever the hell was going to happen to them—beside his ex-girlfriend was slightly comforting. Nothing about this situation should be comforting, but here was Patricia, a room, and a bed. Simple and familiar. If he ignored the fact that they were the hostages of an 132 year-old madman and a woman who locked her sister up in a mental hospital, it almost felt like old times.

“Okay, yeah, um, good,” he said smoothly, suddenly overcome with nerves. He hated that, _hated_ that he’d done so much more with other people and had never been as nervous as he was when doing something slightly intimate with Patricia. And now it was even _more_ nerve-wracking, because she’d broken his heart, and now she was allowing him to share a bed with her like they did when they were dating. “We can just…”

He trailed off, gesturing at the bed, and Patricia nodded dumbly, because what else was she supposed to do? She sat down on the right side and unlaced her boots; she knew Eddie had sat down on the left when the mattress dipped behind her. Patricia kicked off her shoes and straightened up, officially back to back with Eddie on a lumpy twin bed in a near barren room in the Gatehouse. “You know,” she joked, searching for something to lighten the mood, “if we were all tied up this would be a proper kidnapping.”

Eddie’s whole body stilled for a moment, and Patricia felt her face start to burn as the implications of what she’d just said caught up to her. _If Frobisher himself walked into this room right now and dragged me by the hair up to that tank room I’d probably thank him,_ she thought, bending at the waist and covering her face as Eddie started cracking up.

“Feeling a little frisky there, Yacker?” he laughed, turning around to look at the back of Patricia’s head where it sat cradled in her hands. Her groan of embarrassment set him off again, laughing so hard that the mattress springs squeaked, which made him laugh even harder.

“Will you cut it out?” Patricia snapped, but she was starting to laugh too. She turned her body so she could grab one of the flat slabs that were supposed to be pillows and began battering him with it. “You’re such a child.”

“Oh my god, you should see your _face!”_ Eddie cackled, trying to defend himself from the onslaught. He managed to grab the pillow out of her hands as it came down for another blow and began to hit her in retaliation. They were both openly laughing now, and the part of his mind that wasn’t focused on their impromptu pillow fight hoped that Denby could hear them laughing. _Can’t break us that easily._

“Alright, alright! I surrender!” Patricia managed to wheeze out through another fit of laughter, back flat on the bed as Eddie leaned over her and rained Patricia’s own weapon down on her.

“What’s that?” he said with faux innocence that was easily given away by his shit-eating grin, still hitting her lightly with the pillow. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I said _I surrender,_ you doofus,” she said, finally managing to snatch the pillow back and throw it at the door, out of his reach.

Their chuckles began to die down, and they noticed at the same time the position they were in: Patricia sprawled out on her back with Eddie practically on top of her.

With a start Eddie pulled back, embarrassed he’d let himself get carried away. Meanwhile, Patricia was rather sad to see him go; it was certainly a change to see him on top.

That started her giggling again, and almost as if he knew exactly what she’d thought, he glared half-heartedly at her and got off the bed so he could shrug off his sweater in an attempt at getting ready for bed. “Never thought I’d see the day when Patricia Williamson surrendered to anyone.”

She shrugged, feeling bold, and the little voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Joy cheered her on. “Not just anyone,” said Patricia. Eddie turned to look at her with wide eyes, and, just like that, all of her boldness fled her body. _“Right, well, good night,”_ she said, pulling the covers back and climbing into bed without bothering to take off any extra layers. “Sleep tight, don’t let Frobisher bite.” With that, she pulled the covers up to her ears and turned her back on him to hide her flush.

“You know what, no,” Eddie said suddenly and hopped back onto the bed. “I deserve to know.”

She rolled over so she was facing him and raised an eyebrow. “Know what?” she asked, but she knew damn well what he meant, and her heart was pounding. _Cool it, Williamson._

He laid down next to her, propping his head up with his hand. “Why did you break up with me? And don’t just say ‘It wasn’t working out’,” he said, cutting her off before she could even open her mouth, “because we both know that’s not true. We were happy, I know we were. So, _please,_ tell me what I did wrong.”

_I could lie,_ she thought. _Am I_ that _proud that I’d lie to his face even when I regret splitting up in the first place?_ She looked him in the eye, startled by the uncharacteristic vulnerability she saw there. Once again he’d lowered his forcefield for her, and here she was hesitating to return the gesture. Patricia took a deep breath, hating how shaky it was.

“Nothing,” she said after an agonizing moment, and Eddie blinked in confusion. _“You_ did nothing…it was me,” she clarified.

_Oh_. “Oh,” Eddie chuckled humorlessly, “the classic _‘it’s not you, it’s me’_ schtick. Gotcha.”

“No,” Patricia said firmly before Eddie could put his metaphorical shield back up, sitting up a little more so she mirrored his position. “That’s not what I was trying to say. I was…”

She trailed off again, forcing Eddie to press her for more details. “You were what?” he asked, voice gone soft with anticipation.

Patricia gnawed on her lip, realizing just how close they actually were on the tiny twin bed when she noticed that she couldn’t feel Eddie’s breath on her face anymore because he was holding it. _Now or never._

“I was scared,” she admitted quietly. “We were moving so fast and so into each other, and I was scared because it didn’t scare me as much as it should have.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “So wait…you broke up with me because you were scared that you _weren’t_ scared?”

She pursed her lips. “Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid,” she said, an edge creeping back into her tone.

“No, no,” Eddie was quick to assure her, his face softening. “Yacker, it’s not stupid, because I felt the same.” Patricia just eyed him silently, so he continued. “You know, I meant what I said about falling for you…I’ve been with people before, but it was never anything serious. Until you.” He hesitantly reached out with the hand not bracing him and, when she didn’t object, took her free hand. “I think I was—no, I _am_ pretty sure I’m in love with you.” Eddie gulped. “And that’s really scary.”

“Frombie scary?” Patricia asked, and that startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“Yeah,” he chuckled breathily, eyes not leaving her face. _“Scarier.”_

They looked at each other then—maybe for a second, maybe ten minutes—and neither of them moved, the tension so thick they could almost taste it hovering in the air between them.

Then, Eddie ran his thumb over the back of her hand and Patricia thought, _Fuck it._ And in one swift motion, she closed the distance, melding their mouths together in a searing kiss. Eddie responded eagerly, letting go of her hand and cupping her cheek instead.

At some point, they allowed themselves to drop down into a more comfortable position, and from there one of them—maybe both of them—deepened the kiss. It was like making up for lost time, the way the two of them held onto each other there in that dinky little guest room-turned-holding cell.

Eddie started to reach for the hem of her shirt, but she broke the kiss off and smacked his hand away gently. “Now’s _probably_ not the best time,” she pointed out breathlessly when Eddie honest to god whined. “If you recall, we _are_ still kidnapped.”

“Come on, Patricia, we aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

She grinned mischievously, and Eddie thought she looked positively feral. “Yes, we are,” she said, leaning close to his face again. “We’re going to bed.” Patricia rolled off him and onto her back, laughing while Eddie spluttered. “Look, as much as I’d love to, I _really_ don’t want Denby to come walking in here in the middle of _it.”_

“Would serve her right,” he said grumpily, but he couldn’t stay mad at Patricia when she was laughing like that. “Hey,” he said after a moment, “are we… _y’know?_ Going to try again?”

She turned her head to look at him with a tentative half-smile. “Do you want to?” Patricia replied.

Eddie threw an arm over her and suddenly they were face to face again. “Yeah,” he said. “I want to.”

Patricia nodded. “Me too.”

They laid there in comfortable silence for a while, Eddie holding her lightly while she listened to his breathing begin to even out. Still, a few minutes later, Patricia broke the silence.

“So…how are we going to get out of here?”

“Oh, yeah…I kinda forgot about that.”


End file.
